Richmond dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1884-1903, 1887-04-17

A story About One Of the Most Popu'
inr OF she Irish Natiouaifsts.


tall, dignifed, silent, sad, careworn,
cadayerous, and, withal, singuiariy
hsndsome. He was great lingiis1
and profound scholar. Some OF ms
followers looked upon him with an al,
most superstitious reverence, ana
doubtless this feeling gave rise to some
of the strange stories that have been
told OF him. No one could ever dis
cover where he lived, few could say
when or where he would come, aud
once out of sight nobody could tell
where he went to.
At the end of the festivities one OF
the /. r. b. men, as they are called,
told the following story: About the
wear 1862 or 1868 [ was living on the
north side of Dublin, near Drumcon-
dra. All the outskirts of the old city
had then even more broken-down ana
shabby-genteel appearance than they
have now. Not far from the Tolca river
| and near Drumcondra there was ahouse
| that was not known TO have had an oc-
| cupant for many years. or course,
ike all old, deserted houses, it was
| haunted. 1t had O molderlng and musty
look. and the grounds around it were
| oyerrun with rank weeds. The sight OF
| il would give you the blues. 1t looked
| like the home Of the banshee or the hall
| of the board of Lepachauns. Wen,
| very often in the summer months, and
shortly before dark, the front door OF
that old shanty opened slowly and out
stslked very tall man wrapped In
| long. black cloak, and wearing broad
trimmed soft hat. He was q handsome
fellow, too, although his face was
CHASTITY pale--a sort OF Cheyalier de
Profundis, Cagliostro, or any other
sort of grand and tragic-looking cuss
that Won can imagine either on the stage
or anywhere else.
But after all he was apparently
worldly kind of ghost, FOR his boots
were always dusty or muddy, according
TO the weather, and he carried a plaiu
blackthorn stick and smoked me
cigars. 1t was said that he used to
LIGHT bis cigar with the end OF has
finger but this was not so, for l saw
him strike q match. and it was the light
of it that gave me the first glimpse at
his face. He was the terror OF women
and children for miles around, and
there were plenty Of men, too, who did
NOT like TO meet him. He was called
the Powsy. But the most remarkable
thing about him was his walk. de
moved along with a peculiar blend be-
tween stately cir anda defiant swag9er,
and, although he appeared to go quite
slowly. in reality he went like blazes.
Not one OF the few young men around
the neighborhood who could boast
of having attempted to follow him was
able 20 keep pace with him. He was n
Qoer. but Just where he was going to
nobody could find out. After leaving
his mansion he would pass along
through old Cody lane Then, as he
came near the village of Glasneyin,
some boy would he sure to give the
alarm. The word "Bowsy, even
when uttered in a stage whisper, was
: enough to produce general stampede.
Children ran, women crossed them
selves, dogs barked, geese squawked,
goats jumped, and pigs protested
: while men watched the tall, dark forul
and crinned at each other when 1t was
/ gone. After sweeping through the WI
lage like a tornado, he moved along
that lonely road behind the cemetery
: and disappeared in some OF the boreen'
} in the neighborhood OF Flnglas.
Z One evening, after he had passed ms
3 on that road, attempted to follow him
[ I LET him 90 some little distance ahea'
e of me. and then L started after him
t walking as fast as my legs could g!
0 and occasionally squirting into thiei
d trot, moving noiselessly on my toes.
Y could lust about sec him until Ii
j reached bend in the road, when h
r disappeared naturally enough. Bu
lust then ] was startled by a plerelnI
scream it brought me to standstlll
- I believe | cooked my ears Tor anothe
: one. Int all was silent again. Ipushe
\ ahead, and just at that bend where tn
Eowsy disappeared ! found \ youn
= man with young lady in his arms.
q took in the situation at once. The feI
:. low had been planning matrlmon
- along the road with his intended whe
the Rowsy came along and almoS
scared the poor girl out of her witt
| Put she soon recovered, the two Wen
. off about their business, and gave u
n the chase.
Eut | hit upon another plan. | dt
! termined to lay for the strange pede'
i trian the next night did so, postln
! myself at the point where / had me
= The Young fellow and his fainting con
g ramon. As the Bowsy was sure to b
! smoking, my plan OF campaign was I
:. stop him, politely ask him for high
end endeavor to pull talk out OF HIN
Nv line of examination was well pre-
pared for his arrival. All my question
y were carefully committed to memor
1 and solidIy framed in crooked blarn
g end pretended simplicity. SO l awal
st ed the approach OF the enemy wit
Id confidence. Soon / heard his heaV
1T tread. He came in sight, smoking
IN usual. Armed with cigar, | boldly a
1t rroached him and asked for light. h
~ Halted, squinted at me like man su
" mised or nearsighted, and then, witho'
IN a word, granted my request. AS
1t handed him back his cigar | locke
" into his face again. The squint wi
nc gone, or rather it had become ignite'
I'd for his eyes began to blaze. All N
or carefully.prepared questions wei
it thrown into confusion, and my wor'
ed fed back into my throat before the fl
be of those terrible eyes. could must
p only three, "Thank you, sir, and Il
t. Powsy bowed gracefully and stake
away. When he was gone ! felt hi
On kicking myself. Why didn't say TIN:
ar Why didn't ask that ? Hang it.
IA only looked at me; but ii he hi
ed stainped on me with cloyen foot,
to hit NE bang Of an iron tail with a re
y. hot spike on the end of it, he could n
en- have knoc kcd me out more completed
as Well. time rolled on. l came to Ne
er York, and late one night as | was pas
he ing through Duane street when il W
d completely deserted, heard hea'
or step behind me and deep sigh. tn
70 step brought my thoughts back to o
all Drumcondra, for it sounded like T.
as stride of the Bowsy. Instinctiyely
rs turned my head. Thunder Was
to dreaming! Was / crazy? Had &
of iim-isms? There was the Bowsy su
,es enough could not be mistaken,
m. though did not see his face, for ii